


No volcano can stop us now

by lilactreesinwinter



Series: The Heart Wants What It Wants [5]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: 2010 Phan, Fluff, Fluffy Angst, Holiday in Blackpool, M/M, POV Outsider, Reality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-20 05:46:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10656159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilactreesinwinter/pseuds/lilactreesinwinter
Summary: Dan and Phil’s plans to holiday in Portugal are spoiled, so they go to Blackpool instead.Excerpt:“I reckon you lads were planning on going somewhere more…exotic.” The word “romantic” hung in the air.The boy shrugged. “We just wanted to be on holiday.” Now it was “together” that bobbed gently between us.





	No volcano can stop us now

The boy pushed through the door and stopped awkwardly, all coltish arms and legs. A long emo fringe fell over his big brown eyes. He could be no more than 18, but there was something arresting about him….ah, if I were a younger man— “Come in and welcome!”

“Er, I’ll just wait here for Phil,” with a shuffle of feet. Not for me then. Not that I’d ever do more than ogle. Jim and I have a nice life here in Blackpool, middle-aged landlords in a seaside town that doesn’t worry too much about other people’s business.

Another lad appeared in the doorway, and the first one’s face erupted in a broad smile as their eyes met. They lingered for a moment, caught in each other’s gaze, before they came to the counter. They stood perhaps two millimetres apart, resting their elbows on the surface.

“We have a room booked under ‘Phil Lester’? Two beds?”

Like most hotels, we can make up a double room with the beds either separate or pushed into one. We usually make them up separate, but we try to make the conversion easy by leaving a full-sized duvet in the cupboard with the extra pillows. I couldn’t imagine that these two, especially as tall as they both were, would not opt to push their beds together.

“Yes, sir. We we able to book you our last room. It’s a bit small and up a few flights of steps—it’s basically a garret at the top of the house. But it does have a great view.”

“Dan and I are just happy you had a room. We had to change our holiday plans at the last minute. Because of that volcano in Iceland.”

“We couldn’t believe they grounded all the aeroplanes! But Phil worked out another plan! He said no volcano could stop us now.” There was that smile on Dan’s face again, as they looked at each other and seemed to forget I was there for a moment. Dan recovered himself with a small clearing of his throat. “Unless there is a dormant volcano under Blackpool?”

I smiled indulgently. “Not that I’ve noticed. But you never know.”

Phil’s mind was no longer on volcanos. “Is there anywhere near here we can get a sandwich? We didn’t eat on the train.”

“I can make you some ham and cheese and fizzy drinks, if you like.”

“Just ham please. Thank you!”

“Phil won’t let us eat cheese.” The boy pouted, but the corners of his mouth twitched up as he glanced at Phil from under his eyelashes.

I decided not to ask. “Have a seat and I’ll be right out.”

* * *

Breakfast the next day was winding down. Butter was being scraped onto toast and second or third cups of tea were being poured. The guests sat in the dining room were typical sorts. Chatting quietly in the corner was the older couple from the Midlands who had fond memories of coming to Blackpool as children. There were the three twentysomething backpackers (they always seem to come in threes) talking slightly too loudly. And the American woman sat waiting for her daughter—whose nose was buried in a book—to finish her eggs.

Into this quiet bustle stepped one of yesterday’s lads—Phil. He was slightly disheveled and wearing glasses, and looked as though he had thrown on yesterday’s t-shirt. “Is breakfast still being served?”

“Of course,” said Jim. “Tea or coffee?”

“Coffee, please, for both of us. Dan will be down in a minute.”

Jim winked as he passed me to get the coffee. In our business, we have served breakfast to thousands of people, and we have developed a finely-honed sense of how they have spent their morning before coming to join us. I gave my partner a stern look. I did not think these particular guests would appreciate any nudge-nudge-wink-wink, which sometimes Jim was prone to indulge in. Apparently my look was not stern enough.

Dan appeared at the door. And though Phil had slipped to the table unnoticed, Dan managed to make an unintended entrance. His hair, so carefully straightened yesterday, was a mass of tangled curls. His eyes were bright and his skin was glowing. Everyone looked toward the door; even the little girl glanced up from her book to see why the room had gone quiet.

Jim gestured toward the seat opposite Phil with the hand not carrying toast. “Sleep in this morning, mate?”

The boy’s olive skin flushed scarlet. He was half-way to his table, stopped, started again, and perched himself on the chair facing his companion. He took a gulp of the coffee that Phil had made for him. A brief whispered conference did not calm Dan’s agitation. He abruptly stood up and left the room. Phil sat looking after him, concern and exasperation on his face, before thoughtfully returning to his own coffee and cereal.

* * *

I stepped out into the small garden to find Phil sat scratching Sally’s neck. Sally’s a corgi with a healthy dose of spaniel, and she loves attention from anyone willing to give it to her. I plopped onto a nearby chair and lit a cigarette. I saw Phil’s nose twitch, but he looked up and smiled politely.

“I reckon you lads were planning on going somewhere more…exotic.” The word “romantic” hung in the air.

The boy shrugged. “We just wanted to be on holiday.” Now it was “together” that bobbed gently between us.

I took the plunge and picked it up.

“How long have you two been together?”

The sea-blue eyes widened, and I saw him sort through possible replies. But he reached a decision and answered, bent over the dog’s head, “Six months, I guess.”

I was sure he knew exactly, but I nodded. “Me and Jim have been together—let’s see: 16 years this summer. I remember when it was all new and we were crazy in love. But it honestly has only gotten better with time. Not so much crazy, but even more love.”

He looked from under his fringe and tilted his head. “Isn’t it hard?”

I knew what he meant. I don’t normally set up shop in the garden to counsel my guests. Somehow, though, it seemed important to play the wise uncle this time. The wise gay uncle.

“Relationships are always hard—the hardest thing there is. But the most rewarding anything can be. And yeah, it can be extra hard if you’re queer.”

He winced.

I shrugged. “My advice is, embrace the labels. Or let them roll off your back. Whichever metaphor you like. I’m sure you’ve heard worse, and you will again.”

Sally had rolled over by now, and Phil was deliberately stroking her belly. “I thought I liked girls as well as guys. And you know, it’s cool to be bi. At least if you’re my age.”

“Hey, it’s been cool to be bi for a while. I have no problem with that. There are loads of ways to be queer.”

I used that word again. He kept going, though.

“Dan’s a guy.”

“Indeed he is!”

Phil frowned slightly—perhaps a bit of a leer had crept into my voice.

“If we stick together forever, then what….”

“Then you are incredibly lucky. Having a partner by your side to love and cherish, and who will love you back, will make all the awful things bearable. And all the good things even better. Not everybody gets that, not by a long shot. I remind myself of that every day.”

“Will you get married when you—we—you know.”

“When same-sex marriage passes? Dunno. Marriage is just a piece of paper if your relationship isn’t working already. And if it is working just fine? Might be a bit strange for us after so long. But for you blokes, the timing could be perfect, in a couple of years.”

He shook his head impatiently. “It doesn’t matter. I just love Dan and mean to have him in my life forever. _I_ don’t care about labels, or, you know, status. Or what anyone thinks.”

And this was the crux of the matter. Phil needed only to give his heart and that was done. I could see he was rock-steady in his feelings, knowing who he was and what he wanted and where he wanted to be.

“And you’re worried that Dan cares?”

With a sigh, Phil abandoned the dog—who to all appearances has fallen asleep—and wrapped his arms protectively about his knees.

“He’s only had girlfriends before—before me. He was with his last girlfriend for three years.”

A hint of jealousy and insecurity creased his features. I waited.

“He cares what people think—too much, sometimes. I know he loves me. He lets me know all the time.” A smile chased the frown away. “He doesn’t think our relationship really is anyone else’s business, which suits me. But I’m not sure he’s ready to be seen as 'queer’.” The smile vanished again and Phil’s lips pressed tight together.

“Maybe he’s not, and maybe he never will be. But I’ve seen how he looks at you. He wears his heart on his sleeve. He’s in it for the long haul. Even though sometimes it will be hard.”

* * *

I was at the desk an hour or so later when Dan came through the front door and asked for his room key.

As I slid the key across the counter I said, “I think your guy’s up in your room.”

“He’s not my—”

I held onto the key for a moment. I wasn’t done counselling my guests, it seemed.

“Don’t be ashamed of your love.”

He looked back at me, startled.

“Look, I’m sorry my partner— _my guy_ —teased you. He shouldn’t have done that. It was none of his business, and he should know better.”

“You just called Phil my guy.”

I lifted my hands. “True enough. Maybe I shouldn’t have done that either. But if Phil is not your guy, I’ll eat my broom.”

We looked at each other.

“Love is love. You don’t have to label your love or yourself. If anyone else has a label for you, you can shrug or laugh or shake your head. But don’t get upset, yeah?”

“Sure, okay.” He wasn’t convinced. That’s okay—I’d done enough lecturing for the day.

I picked up the key and handed it to him. “Cheers! You and Phil have a great day. Let me know if there is anything else you need.”

* * *

Blackpool has a lovely sandy beach, unlike the pebbles strewn along most of Britain’s coast. The weather was a bit chilly for April, but at least it wasn’t raining as I made my weekly visit to my mate on the pier. His shop is the usual sort of tourist-trinket place, with a few actual local handicrafts on the shelves. There are always tourists on the pier, of course, but on a weekday in April it’s not too bad. My friend and I took our cups of tea to the bench outside and smoked in companionable silence.

This is how I came to see our two young guests out and about. Two tall young men ambled down the pier, deep in conversation. They were not holding hands, but you might have thought they were, for how close they walked together. They stopped in a shop a few doors down, and when they emerged Dan was holding a 99. (Why an ice cream cone with a Flake stuck in it should be called a '99’ is one of the enduring mysteries of the universe.) Phil had his camera out and was taking pictures of Dan. Simple holiday snaps, against a background of wrought iron benches and iron grey sky. But the way the camera was loving the subject and the subject was loving the photographer back suggested results as arresting as if they’d been taken by a famous photographer.

Phil stuck his camera back in his pocket. Dan finished his ice cream, then turned and ran back they way they had come. Phil gave chase, and they dodged and played tag amongst the few other pedestrians on the pier. They could be children together as easily as they could be travel companions and lovers and friends. They were indeed lucky to have each other.

* * *

We were shorthanded on housekeeping, so I climbed the steps to fetch the linens and towels from the room at the top of the house. The room had been left tidy. As I had expected, the beds were shoved together, the bedclothes swirled into a complete tangle on top. In the en suite, my eye was caught by smudges on the mirror. Someone had written on the glass when it was fogged: “I LOVE DAN”. Over it, in a different layer of steam, had been drawn a large and elaborate heart.

I did not doubt that the love drawn on that mirror would endure. In fact, I know it has. That stay in our hotel was seven years ago. I don’t remember all the guests who come and go, of course, but I haven’t had any trouble remembering these two.

I hadn’t thought much of it at the time, but when they checked out they mentioned that they had YouTube channels. It wasn’t too hard to find them (I may be an old guy, but I can use Google). I’ve kept an eye on them over the years. You might say that I’m one of their oldest fans, in more than one sense of the word. And I’ve been pleased to see that the love that was obvious to me seven years ago is still there, and has matured into something solid and enduring. Their love is obvious to most of their many, many fans too. Even though they have never confirmed it, and have sometimes denied it. It certainly hasn’t always been easy for them; I am impressed that they manage so well in the public eye these days. I’m not sure that’s something I would have predicted—that they would also become partners in the business of building a small entertainment empire.

Jim and I are still here in Blackpool, still running the hotel, seven years on. We live together and work together and every part of our lives is intertwined. We’ve had our ups and downs like any couple, but we’re still in love. We even got married, and life has never been better.

We were able to upgrade the hotel a few years ago and we expanded the room at the top into a proper honeymoon suite. I don’t know if Phil and Dan would ever choose to come back here—they are now world travellers, used to luxury and skybars and being recognised in the street. Their stay here must seem so long ago. But if they ever want to come back, we have the perfect room waiting for them.

**Author's Note:**

> [Read on Tumblr.](https://phinalphantasy7.tumblr.com/post/159759757144/no-volcano-can-stop-us-now)   
>  [Photo of Dan eating ice cream in Blackpool.](https://phinalphantasy7.tumblr.com/post/159685480664/blackpool-19th-april-2010)


End file.
